


Touched

by RubyRollup



Category: Divergent (Movies), Divergent Series - Veronica Roth
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-27 14:34:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2696492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubyRollup/pseuds/RubyRollup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dreams do not always translate perfectly into reality...sometimes, they translate even better</p>
            </blockquote>





	Touched

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mischiefcalling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mischiefcalling/gifts).



_Please don’t throw up. Please don’t throw up. Please don’t throw up._

I mentally chanted this to myself over and over…sadly, it wasn’t really working. My nerves were about to ruin an experience I had been dreaming about since I saw Divergent.

I woke up this morning in a suite that was bigger than my entire house. I took a bath in a bath big enough to swim laps in. Four hours ago, a team of fairy godmothers – armed with brushes, curling irons, a tool box full of eco-friendly cosmetics and a fully stocked dress rail – worked some kind of spell on me and transformed me into (and yes, I think the following word is quite apt) a goddess. For the first time _ever_ , I looked into a mirror and absolutely loved what was staring back at me (I could _totally_ get used to having a full time stylist).

And when I stepped into a limousine thirty minutes ago, my dream was complete.

I was on my way to the Insurgent premiere with Theo James…who, when I sat down across from him, smiled and unpretentiously said, “You look beautiful”. Who took my hand to help me out of the limo when we arrived at the red carpet and held onto it as we made our way down.

But this was not something I was used to and all the flashing cameras and shouting people was like miracle-grow for my anxiety.

I think Theo must have heard the hammering of my heart (or felt my palm start to sweat) because as we entered the venue, he whispered something to his publicist…and in a few minutes, we were ushered into a small room.

“You were looking a little faint out there,” he said, with a sympathetic chuckle. I was simultaneously relieved and mortified, and let go of his hand so I could turn away from him as I gave in to my slight fit of hyperventilation.

Theo was charming, and kinder than I expected him to be, as he gave me space to try and compose myself. The panting got worse, and after a few minutes, I felt a hand on my shoulder.

“Can I try something?” he asked gently. “It will help. But you need to participate, or it won’t work.”

I was desperate enough to try anything, and I was so tense, I simply nodded.

And in a few seconds he was pulling me to him, hands locked at the small of my back, firmly holding me against him. I think I may have been too stunned to react at normal speed, because only when I felt Theo’s grip loosen for a second to lift my hands and place them around his neck did I realise I was supposed to squeeze back.

As I did, and the longer we stood in that embrace, my pulse and breathing started to slow down…

Theo James was squeezing my anxiety out of me…


End file.
